


i’m sorry, it’s not funny, i just don’t know how to talk about it

by transzoemurphy



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: F/F, Flashbacks, Girls in Love, Healing from trauma, Hurt/Comfort, I suppose, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Past Non-Con, Past Sexual Assault, Violence, dhjhjdhjsdjhdd i love them!!!!!!!!, i love… them, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 05:42:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16696528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transzoemurphy/pseuds/transzoemurphy
Summary: zoe tells alana about some trauma after she Flips Out™ w/ no warning





	i’m sorry, it’s not funny, i just don’t know how to talk about it

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from a short film i was watching because watching short films is 100% a better coping mechanism than doing anything productive, god forbid.

She’d found herself here, wrapped in Alana’s arms, because Alana had been kissing her and she’d touched her thigh and Zoe had freaked out, biting back a scream, immediately apologizing profusely, and naturally, Alana cried, so now they were on the couch about to discuss what Zoe called “whatever the hell just happened.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Alana mumbled, holding Zoe’s hand with one of hers, the other carding through her hair.

Zoe sighed. “No, no, I have to. You deserve to know.” She dragged her finger along the seam of Alana’s black jeans. “It’s just, I’m sorry for freaking out, I-”

“Don’t apologize,” Alana said softly.

“Sor- Um, okay. So, um, when I was like, fourteen, fifteen maybe?” She’d been fifteen. Fifteen years, two hundred forty six days old. “It was, just, um, this bad thing happened.” She began to laugh, inexplicably, the giggles piling in her throat despite the desperate urge to sob. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny, I just don’t know how to talk about it. Um, I went to this, uh, this summer camp, right. A band camp. It was, um.” She laughed again. It still wasn’t funny. “It was a pretty good time? But, um, there was this guy. For the sake of his privacy, I’ll call him Alex.” That was a lie; Alex was his real name. “That’s a lie. His name really was Alex. Um, I was, um.”

Alana began tracing circles onto the back of Zoe’s hand soothingly. “Hey, you can stop anytime, if you need, honey.”

“Thanks,” Zoe whispered. She leaned back into Alana a little more. “Um, this guy Alex. We were, uh, we were in improv class, and this one team was presenting, and the rest of us were watching. And Alex was on my team. He wouldn’t, um, see, I was trying to find my fr- find my friend Phillip, who was also on my team, to sit next to? And hang out with? Um, but I was sitting in the middle of the row, and on this side-” She held her hand out to the left, taking Alana’s hand with her “-There was Alex, and on this side-” She gestured to the right “-There was this really tall kid Damian, like, he was really freaking tall, and then a few other kids.”

She took a few deep breaths, her head beginning to hurt as she tried to recall what had happened and her brain desperately tried to shove the memory away, to keep her from feeling so afraid.

“Um. So Alex, he was talking to me about whatever, and, um, we’d all just come back from cleaning our instruments, so there was that weird scent around of the, uh, the cleaning stuff. And I can’t smell that anymore without thinking of, of what happened. But I was talking to Alex, or he was talking to me, and then he just grabbed my hand and held it and I was like ‘dude, please stop.’ He’s like ‘oh, did that make you uncomfortable? Because that’s the point.’

“So I asked that kid Damian, when Alex went up to demonstrate something, and I was like ‘hey, I’m claustrophobic, is it okay if I sit on the end?’ And Damian, bless his soul, I love him and I hope he’s having a good life, was like ‘yeah, of course! If there’s anything else I can do to help just tell me.’

“I left a seat open next to me. I don’t know why I did that. Alex asked me why I’d moved and I told him I was claustrophobic. He bought the lie, but still sat right fuckin’ next to me and kept talking.

“And he kept doing the hand thing. He did it twice more before I was like ‘Never mind, I’m totally not at all uncomfortable,’ thinking, like, if I didn’t give him the reaction he wanted, he’d give up.

“That backfired. He like - he, he just fuckin’ slid his hand, like, up my thigh and was like ‘now are you uncomfortable?’ And I was like, petrified, y’know? I was frozen. I like, slapped his hand, and he took it back, but I was legitimately so terrified.

“He was like, ‘now are you uncomfortable?’ And I just went, ‘extremely.’

“I found Phillip in the crowd, finally, and he was watching, he looked ready to fight someone, which I appreciated, of course. And afterwards he checked up on me like ‘hey, are you alright, are you gonna tell anyone?’

“I said no, I wouldn’t, but by the end of the camp Alex still hadn’t stopped, like, basically stalking me. So I told one of the camp counsellors and she was so pissed. I love her. She basically stomped over to Alex and told him off herself.

“Anyway. I still like, freeze up and/or scream whenever someone touches my thigh. So. Just something to, uh, be aware of, I guess,” Zoe finished, sighing.

“I’m sorry,” Alana whispered.

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, no, I’m sorry that I’m going to fucking kill him. I’m sorry to the police officer who has to investigate the case.”

Zoe leaned against Alana’s chest, the buttons of her pressed white shirt pressing into her cheek. “I love you a lot.”

“Do you know his last name and any other information?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve got his last name, his Facebook, his Youtube, and if I’m not mistaken he currently goes to the University of Southern Maine. He’s… oh god, is he a freshman there this year? Because I think we’re the same age. If I check his Facebook, he set up a Twitter and I can’t remember the handle but-”

“Zoe, baby girl…” Alana mumbled. “Calm down, honey. It’s okay. I’m gonna chop his dick off.”

Zoe giggled into her shirt. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Alana responded. “You’re my favourite lesbian.”

“Thanks, you’re my favourite lesbian too.”

“Good, I’d be rather upset if I wasn’t, considering the fact that we’re getting engaged once you’re financially stable.”

“True. I love you,” Zoe mumbled again.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> if the ending seems rushed it was but oh well. i’m on tumblr @dont-the-tears-just-pour


End file.
